Observation
by boldly
Summary: I watch you. Watching me. Green captures blue and I wonder, what are you doing in a place like this? AkuRoku. AU.
1. Got it memorized?

**.. Long time no post, eh? I'm very ashamed of myself. Even more so because I'm not updating TWYD. But .. I've been playing KHII like a madman (er, woman) recently, and AkuRoku has conveniently taken up permanent residence in my brain. Axel has been poking me incessantly, and he's been a little bitch the past couple of days because he hasn't been helping me write this at all. -glares at Axel- **

**Anyway. First attempt at a Kingdom Hearts fic .. and an AU one at that. I shocked myself with that one, too. I've come to realize that my Axel is turning out to be a lot like my friend's Reno (-insert shameless pimpage of _Business As Usual_ because it is GOD-) and it makes me happy. Because Reno wins. At life. And so does Miya. XD Thanks for being my beta, love. -cuddles- Um. There was a point to this author's note, I'm sure. Oh yeah. This is going to be fun to write, when these boys finally stop being stubborn and help. Yeah, like that will _ever_ happen. -headdesk-**

**I, most unfortunately, do not own Axel or Roxas .. Squeenix does. Lucky bastards.**

* * *

When he entered the bar, my first thought was, _There's no way that kid is old enough to be in a place like this._

He was so small, his thin frame easily lost to my eyes in the crowd. The only way I could really keep him in my line of vision was to watch for that shock of blonde hair. It completely defied the laws of gravity, spikes pointing in all directions not unlike my own. It made me smile, and not very much could do that these days.

I absentmindedly flipped my Zippo open and closed as I watched him make his way to a barstool not far away from mine. It seemed luck was in my favor tonight. Now I could get a better look at him.

As I watched him order a drink, my eyes took in the simplicity of his attire -- he was dressed entirely in black, from his button-down shirt to his shoelaces, with the exception of a black and white checkered wristband decorating his left arm.

His outward appearance shouldn't have drawn my attention the way it did -- really, he was the most normal-looking person in the place. No, what initially attracted my attention was the way he held himself. He had an air of cocky arrogance that surrounded him, and it intrigued me. What could this boy possibly have a right to feel cocky about?

Normally, I tend to go after the submissive types -- not so much because I enjoy that sort of thing, but more so because I'm lazy and have no real desire to put too much effort into the chase. I have no problem whatsoever with the occasional challenge; I just don't make a habit of it, you know? Don't want people to think I care, or anything.

Naturally I found myself pondering my instant attraction to this unusual phenomenon. Was it really just because I was feeling a bit less lethargic than usual? If that was the case, then I might as well abandon that train of thought right now because there was no way it could possibly be as rewarding as I wanted it to be.

I threw back the rest of my gin and tonic, preparing to take my leave now that I had made the decision not to waste any time on the blonde. As I turned my gaze briefly in his direction, I caught a flash of blue that stopped me cold and made my breath catch in my throat.

Those eyes. They were as clear and bright as a cloudless sky in the middle of summer, piercing as daggers. He held my gaze, unblinking, with his own. Was it a challenge? An invitation? I couldn't be sure. The only thing I was positive of was the impending brain damage I was bound to inflict on myself if I didn't start breathing again soon. All too soon he looked away, and I was finally able to force a much needed breath into my deflated lungs.

I sat there dumbfounded, flipping the Zippo open and closed, open and closed as I tried to figure out why I hadn't left yet.

_No one should have eyes like that._

I twirled my empty glass on the surface of the bar, my eyes unable to keep from wandering to the prone form two seats away.

"Could you stop that? It's really annoying."

My head snapped up, emerald green catching cerulean blue. _Shit._

"Stop what?" It's always been my experience that playing dumb is the best way to go. People tend to give up quickly if they think they're dealing with an idiot.

Too much trouble, right? And I thought _I_ was lazy.

"The lighter. Flipping it like that. Do you have OCD or something?"

_Oh._ The lighter. I'd thought for a second he'd caught me staring at him. I stuck the Zippo in my jacket pocket, offering a semi-apologetic smile. "Sorry. Nervous habit."

The blonde shrugged, the action so slight his slender shoulders barely moved. "Thanks. Now, could you stop staring at me?"

_Goddammit._

"I'm not staring at you," I said incredulously. A single blonde eyebrow crept ever-so-slowly upward. He looked incredibly mischievous like that, and my brain had enough sense to register the fact that despite his young appearance, he may not be as naive as I had originally perceived.

_Score one for you, kid._

"You're not, huh? What would call it then?" he asked, breaking my train of thought. He was leaning on one arm, empty glass held loosely in his left hand as he studied me. I chewed on a corner of my bottom lip thoughtfully, keeping those iridescent blue eyes of his in my peripheral vision as I stared off into a dark corner of the bar.

"Observation."

He made a face that conveyed the assumption that he wasn't quite sure what to think of that. _Score one for me._

"I don't think I like the idea of some random .. _nobody_ .. observing me." The blonde motioned for the bartender to refill his drink as he said this, keeping a wary eye trained on me as liquid was poured into his glass.

I smirked. "Random nobody, eh? I beg to differ." That blonde eyebrow quirked upward once again, this time followed by an amused, if cautious, smile. "Who are you then?"

I flashed him my trademark devious grin, green eyes sparkling. "The name's Axel. Got it memorized?"

* * *

**Mah. So short, I know. This is just a .. prologue of sorts. It gets better. Trust me. **


	2. Stop callin' me kid

**-headdesk- I'm almost ashamed to say that though this has taken me months to write, I wrote it in one day, mostly in one sitting. After several failed previous attempts, mind you. I started from scratch on this one. **

**Now, I'm aware that the first chapter was in first-person POV. That's because it was really only meant to be an introduction by Axel .. and it kinda turned into something else altogether. I've decided that every chapter may have a different POV, either Axel or Roxas, obviously, and I may possibly switch between first and third-person. It's interesting that way. At least to me. And honestly, I look forward to writing Roxas' commentary on certain situations. I've already got an idea in my head for the next chapter. **

**Hopefully, it won't take me as long to finish it. -- **

**Now, on to what you all may or may not have been waiting for. Chapter two! Huzzah. **

**And also to pose the question of why I seem to always have **_**Advent Children**_** on in the background when I'm writing lately. It's odd. **

**If I owned them, there would have been entirely too much yaoi in KH2. Probably best that I don't. TT**

------------------------------------

"How old are you, kid?"

"Old enough to know that that's a terrible excuse for a pickup line."

Axel nearly choked on his newly refilled gin and tonic. "Sorry?"

The blonde offered him a lopsided smirk. "You can't sit there and expect me to believe that after staring at me for twenty minutes, you aren't going to make a pass." He took a sip of his own rum and Coke. "The least you could do is come up with a better line than that."

The redhead coughed into a fist, forcing himself to breathe around the burn of alcohol. A small smile played across his lips as he turned his gaze to the boy adorning the barstool two spaces away.

"Bit cocky, aren't we? What makes you think you're my type in the first place?"

"I'm_everyone's_ type," the blonde stated simply. Axel arched an inquisitive brow.

"Really now?" He shook his head and dared another attempt at finishing his drink. "That doesn't make you cocky at all, now does it?" He nearly bit through his tongue fighting the laughter that tickled the back of his throat.

"How could I ever _say_ such a thing .."

_This is turning out to be much more entertaining than I thought,_ the redhead thought to himself.

_Glad I decided to stay._

"Laugh all you want," the blonde said almost sourly. "But the fact remains that women want me. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a dazzling smile. I have the making of a major heartbreaker." He sat back against the chair, arrogance oozing from his very being.

It was Axel's turn to smirk. "Women, sure. But what about guys?"

The blonde's face was blank. Axel shook his head in mock sadness. "Sure, you look like a little poster boy. You're cute and can feign innocence like a pro. Women _love_ that. But to the average guy, you may _look_like a girl. You're small, slender, altogether almost frail-looking. I'd be afraid I'd break you." He motioned to the bartender for another drink as all the color seeped out of the boy's face. Axel watched as he fumbled idly with his own empty glass, his eyes glued to the floor. He was almost positive he saw a blush creeping up the side of his neck.

_Didn't know you were so easily embarrassed. Oh, this is going to be _fun.

"So," the redhead started when the boy still hadn't found his voice. "Let's forget the age thing for the time being. What's your name?"

The blonde looked perplexed. "Why d'you want to know my name?"

Axel shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, as much as I enjoy calling you 'kid'--" He grinned at the sudden disgust on the boy's face. "I can tell you don't care for it very much, and you know mine, so .." He leaned forward ever so slightly, his green eyes locked onto the blue of the blonde's.

"What is it?"

"Roxas," the boy said softly. He chewed on a corner of his bottom lip, still refusing to meet the redhead's heated gaze. He seemed a bit nervous, and Axel's stomach twisted with excitement.

_Well, now,_ he thought idly.

"What the hell kind of name is Roxas?" he asked, eyes sparkling mischievously. He grinned at the curling of a lip turning into a sneer.

"What the hell kind of name is _Axel_?" Roxas shot back, his blue eyes bright with annoyance. Clearly, his name had been the point of ridicule before.

The redhead shrugged again, his bony shoulders barely moving. "My dad was a grease monkey."

Sheer incomprehension plastered the blonde's face. "Huh?"

Axel burst out laughing. "Nothing, kid."

Roxas rolled his eyes, slipping back into the guarded, arrogant guise of a few moments prior. "You're an ass. And you _do_know my name now. You really can stop calling me that."

"Oh, but it's so _endearing_." The redhead couldn't help taking the slightest bit of delight in the sour look on the blonde's face. _You're a bit too cute when you're annoyed_. His eyes locked with Roxas' until the blonde looked away, another light blush forming just beneath his left ear.

He grinned slyly. _I should make it a point to annoy you more often._

Tossing back the rest of his third drink, he slapped a twenty under the empty glass and stood, shrugging thin arms into the sleeves of his jacket. Roxas watched him silently, almost studiously.

"Leaving already?"

Axel combed his fingers through the mess of crimson spikes atop his head and stretched. "Yeah. Gotta get up early in the morning. Some of us have to work for a living."

The blonde seemed oddly interested. "Where do you work?"

"Mm. Don't know if I want you knowing where I work just yet. Wouldn't want you stalking me, or anything."

Roxas' nose wrinkled. "As if I'd ever stalk _you_."

"Guess we'll leave that bit of information for next time, then." Axel's mouth curved up into a half-smile as he stepped closer to the blonde, tracing the sharp angle of his jaw lightly with a fingertip.

He thought he saw him shiver.

"See you around, Roxas." He turned, taking long strides toward the door and leaving behind a very dumbfounded blonde. He grinned devilishly once he was outside, the crisp autumn air filling his lungs as he took a deep breath and started towards home.

_Score_two_ for me._

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**-cough- Brownie points if the 'grease monkey' comment made you laugh. Kudos if you even get the reference. XD I'm an idiot. **


	3. Neuroses

**-blinks- Me? Update the same fic twice in one month? Scandalous! That aside, this chapter was fairly easy to write. Roxas invaded my brain and wrote it for me, basically. I can't complain. Why would I? **

**This whole chapter is pretty much Roxas going off on random tangents and ranting about .. well, everything. I hope someone else enjoys it as much as I do. X3**

**Oh! And no one can complain about a short chapter this time. It's twice as long as the first two! So there! **

* * *

_Did I just .. really?_

I stared at the door to the bar as it swung shut, separating me not only from the crisp cool of early autumn, but from the enigmatic redhead as well.

_Surely I just imagined it._

I threw down a bill, neither paying attention to how much it was nor caring if I was leaving a more than generous tip as I stood and wove carefully through the crowd, taking care not to come in contact with any of them.

_I _don't _let people I don't know touch me._

It's one of my .. quirks, I guess you could say. Which is why I found myself so flustered at the fact I let Axel come within two feet of me, let alone trail his finger down the side of my face.

_What the fuck, man?_

Momentary lapse in judgment, maybe? I rolled that thought around in my head as I stood on the curb and hailed a taxi. Well, _tried_ to hail a taxi. The bastards all seemed to be ignoring me.

I was pretty sure I looked ready to murder someone by the time one of the yellow cabs pulled up in front of me. The cabbie himself appeared afraid to look at me, much less ask me where I wanted to go. I smirked to myself and saved him the trouble.

Hey, I can be nice sometimes. If I'm given a good enough reason, that is.

I quietly contemplated the evening's events on the ride to my campus apartment. Axel was .. interesting, to say the least. In the short time I'd spent in his company tonight, I was certain of several things. One being that he was obsessive-compulsive when it came to flipping that goddamned lighter open and closed. Chances were that if he carried a lighter, he smoked.

I don't like smokers.

They always _reek_ of cigarette smoke, which has never really been a particularly tolerable smell for me in the first place. They have that dry, hacking cough that sounds like they have a huge hairball lodged in their throat. And I couldn't be positive of this since it had never happened to me, but I imagined kissing them would taste something akin to licking an ashtray.

Utterly disgusting. I could only _imagine_ how many other undesirable habits he must have.

Another thing I was fairly certain of was that he was gay. At the very least, bisexual, what with that whole bit about other men finding me attractive. What should I care? Unless, for some obscure reason, he thought _I_ was gay.

I almost laughed out loud.

Granted, I don't base physical attraction on gender alone, it was amusing to think I might come off that way to someone else. Which made me start to wonder ..

_Was he interested in me?_

How intriguing.

The cab jolted to a stop in front of my apartment not a moment too soon. Not only do I loathe the idea of strangers invading my personal bubble, I also can't _stand_ being in an enclosed space for too long. Especially if that enclosed space reeks of urine.

_God, I fucking hate New York._

I trudged slowly up the front steps of the building, wondering idly if I was going to have the apartment to myself. Not that it really made a difference if my roommate _was_ there, seeing as he kept to himself most of the time.

Zexion was an English major with a focus on Literature. He _always_ had his nose buried in a book, quietly reciting forgotten poetry to himself or taking notes on a reading assignment for class. He rarely spoke unless he had something important to say or it was out of necessity. He'd been my roommate for the past two years, and to be honest, I don't believe I could have asked for a better one.

He was quiet. I liked him.

Before I even reached the door, the wailing screech of an electric guitar assaulted my ears and I knew it was not going to be one of those silent, peaceful evenings.

_Demyx_, I groaned inwardly. _Damn_.

The musician frequented our apartment more than I'd care to admit. He was always perched on the edge of the couch, guitar balanced carefully in his lap, scribbling furiously on crumpled sheet music with such an intense mask of concentration pasted across his face that at times I could have sworn I heard the gears in his head turning.

He also just happened to be Zexion's significant other.

He's a nice kid, don't get me wrong. He's all smiles and sunshine--but unfortunately for me, the sun only shines for Demyx when he's playing his guitar, and he only smiles when he's successfully drowned out all other sound on our floor with his music. It had become second nature for me to constantly carry a pair of foam earplugs as a result.

I stood just outside the entrance to the apartment, steeling myself against the unfiltered noise that waited to accost me on the other side. It would figure he would choose tonight to drag the amp across the hall; _tonight_, when I had a twenty page paper to finish and a Psych test to study for.

_If I get lower than an A_, I thought maliciously, _I'm going to shove the neck of that guitar so far up your ass you'll be able to play the chords with your tonsils_.

A bit too harsh, you think? Not likely. I take my education far too seriously to let anything get in the way of my graduating at the top of my class.

I pushed the door open, shrugging out of my jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair. As I'd expected, the sandy blonde was perched precariously on the arm of the sofa, pondering the sheets in front of him with clear determination. He glanced up, gave me a half-hearted wave and returned his attention to the rumpled pages.

I was a bit surprised, honestly. His normal greeting consisted of a very energetic exclamation of "_Hey, Roxas_!" followed immediately by a request to study his latest piece. Can't say that I was particularly disappointed by the change.

_Maybe I'll get my shit done, after all_.

I cringed when the guitar screeched again.

_Then again .. maybe not_.

Zexion offered a small, apologetic smile from his place beside the musician, resting his book in his lap. "He said he was having trouble finishing this one section," he said softly, shifting his gaze to Demyx's hands as they resumed their fevered dance across the page. A perplexed frown furrowed his brow.

"And for some reason, he says I inspire him."

"You _do_ inspire me," Demyx interjected distractedly, eyes never leaving the mess of notes in front of him. He chewed a corner of his lip thoughtfully. "You're like .. my muse, or something. The music practically writes itself when I'm around you."

"I suppose that's why you're constantly taking up space in my apartment, then?" I threw in sarcastically, a sardonic grin spreading across my face of its own accord. "Why don't you drag _him_ across the hall every once in a while?"

"Mm," the musician hummed in reply. He waved a dismissive hand. "The acoustics are better over here."

I opened my mouth to retort only to close it, shaking my head. Arguing with him was a complete waste of time. Once he had his heart set on something, you couldn't move him with an iron fist.

An admirable quality, yes, but at the same time incredibly nerve-wracking when you're trying to finish a term paper at three in the morning.

"Try to keep it down then, will you? I have a test to study for." I looked to Zexion, who nodded mutely, a smile ghosting his features as he spoke in Demyx's ear. The sandy blonde frowned, but nodded in return, and I took that as a sign that the rest of my evening was going to be a bit less noisy than I'd originally feared.

_We'll see how long it lasts._

I left the lovers to their own devices, striding slowly down the dark hallway to my bedroom.

My sanctuary. My safe haven. My comfort zone. Agitation all but melted away as I kicked off my shoes and fell back across the bed.

The ceiling and I had a staring contest as I pondered which to tackle first; the last two pages of my paper or memorizing paraphilias. The ceiling said paper. I was inclined to agree.

Now, before anyone starts questioning the state of my sanity, bear this in mind; I'm a Psychology major. I'm programmed to see things from an entirely different perspective. My brain is in a perpetual state of analysis, seeking to identify the catalyst that sets the world in motion. I'm inquisitive. I'm a deep thinker.

I'm also just slightly neurotic.

Acidic green eyes invaded my thoughts as I reached for my laptop and pulled up the correct file. I paused, perplexed by the sudden intrusion.

_What is it about you?_

I pictured his face--pale skin, that wickedly easy smile, the obscure tattoos beneath his eyes. He was something, all right, but that didn't explain why I suddenly couldn't get him out of my head. I watched the cursor on the screen, hearing the click of a Zippo in time with its steady blinking.

_Maybe I_ am _going crazy_.

A string of curses murmured by an irritated musician, followed by soothing words whispered by a slate-haired bookworm brought me out of my trance and I focused once again on the task at hand.

As I began to type, I couldn't help wondering if I would ever fully understand why I found him so intriguing, or if he was destined to remain an enigma, too far beyond even my superior comprehension.

Only time would tell.

* * *

******Yes, Roxas is neurotic. We call him NeuRoxas now. It's so endearing. **

******And didn't I say he was cocky? Goodness. **


	4. Speechless and redundant

:peeks around a corner: Um, hi? Long time no see? Eheh .. :sweatdrop: I have a good excuse, I _swear_.

Oneshots invaded my brain and just wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote them. And that's the honest truth.

Okay, okay. My incompetence aside, please forgive me. This chapter is so new, it's practically still in diapers. Took me six hours yesterday to finish it. I hope you guys like it. Lemme know what you think, yeah?

And I know my chapters are still a bit short -- I wanted this one to be longer, but there are events on the agenda that I want to be from Axel's POV, so they'll be in the next one. Which _won't_ be another year coming. Promise. Also, I'll be going back over the first two chapters and doing some _major_ editing, so .. stay with me. I'm eternally grateful for those of you who have had the patience to wait for this. Thank you, so much.

This is for my wife, **kurosora1984**, because all she wanted was for them to meet again. ILU, you sexy thing.

And just because I must make this random observation -- Wild Turkey will knock you on your _ass. _Axel's a freaking trooper. :D

* * *

_An anomaly. _

_An anomaly wrapped in an enigma. _

_Why the hell am I here again? _

To be perfectly honest, I wasn't sure and apparently, neither were the voices in my head.

That makes me seem a bit crazy, doesn't it? I told you before … I'm _not_. I'm just programmed differently. Which still didn't explain why I was at the bar again, sitting in the exact same spot as the night before and keeping at least one eye trained on the door at all times.

_Poor wittle Woxas, you're not gonna _cry_, are you? _

I'd be embarrassed if this whole thing weren't going on in the back of my brain. No one else could hear them and as long as _I_ didn't say anything out loud, it'd be just fine.

I'd only been here for an hour, anyway. It was eight-thirty and the place was pretty dead, but I didn't see any reason to leave just yet. I stirred my drink absently, lifting the glass to take a sip and grimacing. I let it sit too long. Watered-down vodka is downright disgusting.

_Not like you need to be drinking anyway! _Another voice, high-pitched and reminding me much too much of my harpy of a mother screeched through the momentary silence. I could see her clearly, standing there, toe tapping endlessly in irritation. Shaking my head, I will the image away and motioned for another drink.

_So … why _are_ you here, anyway? _

I thought about it. Mulled it over. Any and every reason I could possibly think of slipped away from me, until there was nothing left save the after-image of an emerald stare burned into the backs of my eyes.

_Ohho .. so you like him. _

_No, it isn't that. _I shifted uneasily, sipping my vodka tonic thoughtfully.

_Then what is it? _

Hm.

All right, so _maybe_ I wanted to see if I could crack him open, peek inside that head of his to discern why I was suddenly so interested in a single person. I'll be the first to admit that it takes quite a bit to hold my attention – moreover, if it isn't abnormal or the least bit abstract, I've already forgotten about it and moved on to the next thing on the list. To think that I was suddenly distracted by the existence of a single entity was laughable.

_There's something,_ the tiny voice mused. I scowled into my glass. _You know, don't you? What it is about him. Fucking tell me! _

Soft laughter in a dark corner of my mind. _If I knew, so would you, and you wouldn't be sitting here talking to yourself. _

That … was probably true. Dammit.

I sat in sullen silence, swirling the clear liquid, watching the ice cubes circle each other in a slow dance.

_Maybe I _should _go home. _

_Yes!_ The harpy-voice shrieked in the most obnoxious soprano. _Go home and study like the good boy you're supposed to be! _

_Shut the fuck up. _I groaned softly, wondering if this internal exchange was the product of so many years of isolation with no brothers or sister, and parents that really couldn't have cared less – or the beginning of my mental downfall. Either was frighteningly possible.

"_What happened to him?" _

"_He just broke down, started mumbling to himself about … voices." _

And there I'd be, in a goddamn straitjacket, rocking back and forth in the corner of a padded room. Not a very honorable way to go, eh? No sir.

"_Well,_ fancy meetin' you here."

My head snapped up, eyes catching a flash of red and a flicker of green as the center of my inner wonderings came strolling in, bringing with him a rush of chilled air. He grinned, slid onto the stool directly to my left and motioned to the bartender. "Shot of Wild Turkey," he called, shrugging out of his jacket. He draped the garment over the back of the chair, still grinning madly as his shot was placed in front of him.

"Cheers." He tossed it back without so much as a blink, purring somewhere deep in the back of his throat, a small sound of satisfaction. Turning to me again, he set the empty glass on the bar and winked. "So. What brings you here this fine evening?"

I regarded him carefully, warily, sipping from my own drink. "Certainly isn't the clientèle," I mumbled. The redhead snorted, signaling to the bartender that he wanted another shot. "Ouch." He gave me a sidelong glance, a corner of his mouth twisting upward as he brought the glass to his lips. "Sure it wasn't the prospect of seeing me again?"

I coughed, nearly choking on the vodka as it diverted down my windpipe – glaring, wide-eyed, I swiped a hand across my mouth in exasperation. "Not cocky at all, are you?" I shook my head as though to clear it, pinching the bridge of my nose between thumb and forefinger. He chuckled softly to himself, and there was silence.

"Has it ever occurred to you that … maybe, _just_ maybe, you're _not_ the center of everyone's universe?"

_He certainly is the center of _yours. The disembodied voice almost seemed to be laughing at me again. If it had a mouth … I was positive it would have been marked with a sneer.

_Shutupshutupshutup! _

_I'm just pointing out the obvious, here. _

… _I didn't ask you to. _

_Ah, you never do. _

He was grinning again. I looked up, eyebrows raised, challenging. "Well?"

He shrugged almost lazily, shoulders barely moving. "Never occurred to me, no." I snorted and rolled my eyes. "No … why would it?" We were both quiet then, each absorbed in our own thoughts. Or possibly in his case, the lack thereof.

_You're not making a very good first impression. _

_I thought I told you to shut up. _

_I'm just saying … _

_I've already made a first impression. We met yesterday, remember? _

_Oh, _right._ But you were too busy blushing to be interesting. Now's your chance. _

_I swear to god, if you don't shut up, I'm going to stab you with a Q-tip. _

_I'm sure I don't need to remind you that you can't threaten the intangible. _

…

_Point and match. _

_For the love of – _

"So." The redhead, _Axel,_ smirked and twirled his empty glass across the surface of the bar. "If you're not here to enjoy the company of others, and you're not here on the off chance that I might turn up again … which, honestly, I think you're lying but … that's neither here nor there." He paused briefly, that insufferable grin plastered across his face. I conveniently looked away. "Why _are_ you here?"

It was my turn to shrug. "I assume the purpose of this particular establishment is to give people a place to wind down from their day … not to provide an opportunity to be obnoxious."

He deadpanned, the corner of his lip curving upward just a little. "You're some piece of work, Rox. Anyone ever told you that?"

_Oh, he remembered your name … that's a start. _

_Quiet. _

I ignored the question, opting instead to sip from my drink. Too much tonic … not enough vodka. I let it sit too long again. "It's _Roxas,_" I corrected him politely, giving up on my alcohol intake for the evening. It wasn't worth it. "But it's nice to know you stopped calling me 'kid.'"

Axel, apparently intent on killing a few brain cells, called for his third shot of bourbon. "Mm, I like Rox better. Adds a little bit of character."

I scowled. "I have plenty of character, thank you."

"That … remains to be seen."

_Oh, I _like _him, Rox. Don't screw this up. _

_Jesus, not you too. _

_What? I think it's cute. _

"So why are _you_ here, then? Stopping in on the off chance that _I_ might be here, and you'd have another opportunity to amuse yourself by annoying me?"

He tossed back the third drink as easily as if it were water, tongue darting out over his bottom lip, collecting the last clinging drop. I tried not to notice. His eyes were glittering as he looked at me, the curve of his mouth shifting; I felt my cheeks redden and quickly averted my gaze, focusing instead on the imperfections in the wood of the bar. _Knot there, a chip there … oh hey, it's darker in that spot over there … _

_You're blushing again, _Rox._ Is it the alcohol, or the sexy redhead? _

… _you think he's sexy? _

_I'm just tapping into the thoughts zooming around in here that you don't want to recognize … like your intrigue at the way his tongue curled over his lip … _

_That's _enough _of that, thank you. _

_Hey, they're your thoughts. Not mine. _

"A'right, maybe I wanted to see if I could catch you here again … try to make you blush a little deeper, you know." He laughed softly and I felt my ears start to burn, as they most often did when I was really embarrassed. "But ..." I chanced a glance in his direction, and much to my astonishment and relief, he wasn't even looking at me anymore.

"In all seriousness, the tobacco business takes a lot outta me. I come in here to drown myself in high-proof alcohol so I can forget exactly how much I didn't get done, and how much I have left to do tomorrow, blah blah."

I wrinkled my nose a little. Hadn't I thought to myself last night that if he carried a lighter around, he smoked?

_He didn't say he smoked, dummy. Stop jumping to conclusions. _

_Wait for it … _

"Tobacco business, huh? What do you do, buy cigarettes for minors?"

"Ohh, you're _funny._ I own a smoke shop a few blocks over. You wouldn't believe the demand for flavored cigarillos." He snorted a laugh, scrubbing a hand back through his hair and stretching. My gaze wandered downward and I noticed, quite by accident, the pale strip of skin revealed above the band of his jeans as his shirt rode up the tiniest bit. "Uh, yeah," I offered distractedly. "I'm sure even if I knew what those were … I'd still be surprised."

_Jesus, Roxas, could you _be_ any more conspicuous? _

_Huh? Oh. _Shit.

Axel … seemed not to notice. Huh.

_Better count your blessings. He'd have never let it go. _

… _Yeah … _

_Roxas. Pay attention. _

I blinked. Shook my head. This is why I _had_ to find out precisely what it was about him. This was … way beyond my usual thought pattern. Here I was, completely distracted by a simple, _natural_ reflex all on account of him. _Him._ Who the hell was he, anyway?

He was grinning at me again. "Wanna see it?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"My shop. It's within walking distance, if you'd like to take a glimpse inside the world of a young, _attractive _entrepreneur."

… Aaand I was out of my trance.

I turned sideways on the barstool, facing him directly for the first time. He noticed this, and inclined his head just slightly.

"I'm game, as long as you're not out to … rape me, or anything."

His smile twisted even more, the corners of his eyes crinkling mischievously. "Couldn't tell you if I was, could I? Then you'd be expecting it."

I pulled out my wallet, tallying up my tab in my head and tossing a few bills on top of the bar. "Yeah, you're right … it would completely ruin the surprise." Crimson brows swept slowly upward, his mouth going slack. My own tiny smile spread easily across my mouth as he paid for his own drinks and stood. He shook his head.

"... some piece of work."

_Oh, hell, what are you doing? _

I bit my lip, following quietly behind him as he started toward the door.

_Just … making it interesting.

* * *

_

Oh Roxas, whatever is going on inside that head of yours? Sometimes .. I don't even know. You're more of a fucking enigma than Axel.


	5. Smoke and mirrors

Setting it up, kids. Setting it up for the fun stuff to start happening. But look, two chapters in two days. If I don't fuck around I _might_ start feeling like a writer again.

I have nothing else to say except I hope you enjoy it. This one came easy, but who knows about the next one? We'll just have to wait and see.

* * *

Something was happening. Something was _changing._

He peered down at the blond from the corner of his eye, nonchalantly so as not to draw any undue attention. Something had _already _changed in that respect, the air around him having shifted and taken on an electric quality – Axel, having previously thought that it would have been a lot more difficult to get him to agree to accompany him _anywhere,_ congratulated himself on that small victory.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, he drew out the Zippo lighter that had started this whole thing and began flicking it rhythmically open and closed. He felt the eyes on him, the curve of a small mouth in irritation – dipping his free hand into another deep pocket, he extracted a battered box of clove cigarettes and lit one, inhaling deeply.

"Ugh, you smoke?"

The redhead cocked his head to the side, a crimson brow creeping slowly upward as a small, steady stream of pale smoke spilled from his mouth. "Be kind of difficult to own a smoke shop if I couldn't stand the smell of tobacco, don't you think?"

Roxas grimaced and waved a hand in front of his face. "Tolerance is one thing, but does that mean you have to immerse yourself in it?" He began walking a bit faster, presumably to distance himself from the smell. Axel grinned and caught up with him easily, his slow strides matching the other's hurried steps as though he were merely chasing after a rampant toddler. Gripping the filter loosely between thumb and forefinger, he held the cigarette out to the blond. "Try it. You might like it."

The other curled his lip, shook his head fervently. "Don't think so."

"You never know you like something until you _try_ it, Rox."

"Stop calling me that. And I'm _pretty_ sure I don't have to try a fucking cigarette to know that I don't want my mouth tasting like an ashtray."

The redhead rolled his eyes skyward, bringing the filter to his mouth and taking a longer drag than before. He then grabbed the other's arm, twisting him around and sealing their lips together – he exhaled slowly, passing the smallest bit of musky smoke between them before Roxas pulled sharply away, clapping a hand over his mouth and trying not to cough.

"What the _fuck,_ Axel?"

He grinned, absently licking his lips. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

The blond glared daggers, blue eyes hard and glittering as his own tongue darted out, passing briefly over his bottom lip. A mask of confusion furrowed his brows, a corner of his curling not in disgust, but … curiosity? He looked up, looking as though he was about to say something, but wasn't quite sure what it was. "It .. it's _sweet_."

Axel laughed. "Yeah, it's the filter. They're flavored. Want to try it for yourself, or should I set you up again?" The other blushed deeply, averting his gaze; he shook his head slowly, still unsure, but took the cigarette when it was held out to him again. He scrutinized it, until the redhead laughed softly again and he flushed even an even deeper shade of pink.

"Don't take too big of a drag … they might be smooth, but it'll still burn your throat if you're not careful. You being a newbie and all, I don't want this to be a bad first experience."

Roxas snorted. "I bet you do buy these things for minors, you're such a goddamned bad influence ..."

They walked in relative silence, Axel peering over every so often to watch as the blond took small puffs from the slow-burning clove, breath never catching once. He never coughed, and much to his surprise, expertly flicked the butt away when he was finished. He was a natural. The redhead grinned and shook his head, lighting another for himself as they turned a corner and began down a small side-street. Almost there.

He almost enjoyed the silence – the lack of a need for anything to say to fill it was nice, and not something he experienced often. It was more common, for whatever reason, for people to start rambling endlessly around him; which, truth be told, was one thing he really couldn't stand. There was one particular customer that came into his shop – an elderly man with no family and all the time in the world to wile away – who saw fit to visit every other day regardless of whether he'd run out of cigars. He would lean with a hip propped against the front counter, arms folded over his chest and spout off any anecdote that crossed his mind … whether it was how many men he killed in World War II or the names of every dog he ever owned, and what breed they were, and how old they were when they finally keeled over. It was enough to drive any man to extremes, the worst of which happened to be the faking of a text message telling of a family member in the hospital – but it worked, and Axel had _just _managed not to set the whole place on fire in a fit of madness. Now, whenever he saw the man ambling up the sidewalk, he conveniently disappeared into the back room and let his brother handle whatever stories he had on deck that day.

_Serves him right … for being the fucking lazy bum he is in the first place. _

He took one last drag on the clove between his fingers, breathing deeply and almost purring as he tossed the butt into the gutter. Releasing the smoke through his nose, he reached into his pocket for a set of keys as they came upon the familiar, ornate wrought-iron security door. "Here we are," came his soft admission, key turning in the lock as he twisted the handle and pulled the door open. "My pride and joy … and the reason I don't sleep on park benches."

Roxas looked up at the sign hanging just over the threshold. "You named it 'Burn'?"

The redhead shrugged, leading the way inside. A light switch was flipped somewhere along the way, and the interior was bathed in a dull, warm glow. "What would you have called it?" Silence followed the question as the blond looked around, taking in the small but organized space – wood paneled walls with heavy shelves holding cigar boxes and tins, the smaller wire racks that housed containers of chewing tobacco. He picked up a box of apple-flavored Black and Milds, looking utterly perplexed. "I dunno … but it would have been something more original, I'm sure."

Axel huffed and hopped up onto the counter, folding his legs beneath him and settling his elbows on his knees. "Because you're just brimming with creativity, right?" A smirk ghosted over his mouth as he watched the blond continue slowly around the shop, picking up packages here and there and studying them. He paused over a package of Swisher Sweets, brows furrowing again. "Are these the cigarillos you were talking about?" Turning the box over in his hands, he snorted and looked back up, completely unimpressed. "I don't see what's so special about them."

"Well, if they're the ones with tips, they aren't so special. They're just like the Black and Milds you picked up over there … basically the same thing, just made by a different company." He paused, reaching inside his jacket for the nearly empty box of cloves. "Now, if they're the ones _without_ tips, those are the ones that are in such high demand." The Zippo flipped open and the tiny flame burned brightly for a split second before the top snapped back down into place; he spoke around the filter, voice muffled only slightly as his mouth puckered just enough to keep it in place. "Can't keep the damn things on the shelf."

Roxas squinted at the various boxes in front of him, as though trying to figure out exactly what made them so desirable. They all looked the same, except for the boasting on certain packages of grape or strawberry flavoring. Oh, wait, there was peach over there. Maybe that was something … He shrugged, coming around to where the redhead sat on the counter. "I still don't get it, but okay."

Axel blew a puff of smoke at the blond, grinning as the remainder of his cigarette was snatched away and set between a pair of pale pink lips. "The thing is, not everyone that comes in here smokes _just_ tobacco. Those wishing to … alter their mental state for a brief period of time buy those, slit them open and remove the innards. If you think carefully, I bet you'd be able to guess what they put back in them."

Blue eyes widened and then narrowed. "Why waste the money, though? Why don't they just … buy rolling papers like everyone else?"

"Because rolling paper doesn't taste good, Rox. And neither does weed, if you get the good stuff."

The blond coughed and sputtered, giving Axel the opportunity to snatch the clove back and set it promptly in the corner of his mouth. With a slightly bemused look painted across his face, he watched as the other regained his breath and looked up in mild amusement. "Don't tell me you're a fucking stoner, too."

"Nah … just every once in a while for recreation." He crushed the filter in an ashtray nearly hidden beneath his right knee, emerald eyes fixing the other with an almost wary gaze. "Not gonna judge me on that too, are you?"

Silence gathered as Roxas resumed his lazy stroll around the room, trailing his fingers lightly over the small, cellophane-wrapped boxes. "I don't judge … I just collect information and store it away for safekeeping." As he came back around the counter, he stopped just before a closed door and leaned against the wall, arms folding over his chest. "What's in there?"

The redhead waved a dismissive hand. "Nothing important. What I'm wondering is, why the sudden interest in a guy you just met?" He chewed the edge of his lip as an afterthought as he waited for a reply, drawing his legs up to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. The boards beneath the other's feet creaked softly as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, apparently intent on keeping that particular bit of information to himself. "I told you … I just like knowing things. You never know when something abstract might come in useful."

"I'm abstract, huh? Can't say I've ever been called that before." The blond's head snapped up and for a moment he looked uneasy, the blue of his eyes darkening the slightest bit before he straightened away from the wall and smiled weakly. He shrugged, reaching back to rake a hand through his messy hair. "I'm a Psych major. I'm programmed to find interest in the abnormal."

"Oh now I'm abnormal, huh? What's next?"

He was staring at him again. There was something about him, something that had changed even since they'd stepped foot inside the shop. The way he had to touch everything, scrutinize every little piece of information placed before him – it was strange, and yet Axel found himself drawn even more to the center of his existence. It wasn't so much the fact that he was being observed that intrigued him; it was _why_. He remembered the day before, the inability even then to look away from him for too long. The thought that even though he was outwardly nothing special, there might be … There had to be some reason he was still interested, and he wanted to pinpoint that reason before he got himself into trouble.

_Funny, how I'm the one that started this whole thing. That my observing you apparently piqued your interest, and here you are, staring at me as though you've just figured me out completely. Is that what you have to feel cocky about? You think you can have everything taken apart, study it, and put it back together? Well … I'm one tough nut to crack, kid. But I'll be goddamned if I don't wish you'll stick around to try. _

He'd almost forgotten to breathe again.

"Psych major, huh? Analyze me, baby."

Roxas laughed, a short exhalation before he caught himself and stood straight. He circled the counter as though looking the redhead up and down, chewing absently on a thumbnail as he went. Stopping just in front of him, he braced his hands on either side of his worn Chucks and grinned. "You're an idiot. Analysis complete."

Axel curled his lip into a half-sneer. "I hardly think that's fair. You don't know me well enough to make that assertion." The other shrugged again, blue eyes lighting up the smallest bit. "Well, let's see … you appear to spend the majority of your free time in a bar, which in itself screams half-wit. You smoke, which is an inclination that you don't care about your health – _and_ you smoke weed, which is just fucking stupid in its own right." He leaned in, nearly nose-to-nose with the redhead. "Care to offer a rebuttal?"

_Oh, hell, you're just setting yourself up for this, aren't you? _

"I'll stick with my initial statement … you don't know me well enough." Without even a second breath, he closed the gap between them and pecked lightly at a closed mouth – lips sweet from the clove, cool from the walk from the bar, cheeks flushing that ever deeper shade of crimson. The blond stepped back, surprise stealing over his features for the second time that night, and he covered his mouth with an unsteady hand. There was more silence, and yet … no tension at all.

"You're also a goddamned freak."

"That's … a little closer to home, Rox. You're getting there."

Eyes widened again as he pushed himself off the counter and stretched, shoulders popping in the process. He grinned, reaching out to a space on the shelf directly above the blond's head and dropping a box into an open palm. "Just in case you decide you want one later … and I'm not around for you to bum off of." He took one down for himself and shoved it into his pocket with the other as Roxas read the name out loud. "Djarum Blacks," he mused softly. He looked up, mouth twisted into a lopsided smirk. "What's the method behind naming these things, do you think?"

"Don't know, don't care. All I know is they taste good, and take the edge off better than a shot of Everclear."

More small talk. They moved slowly toward the door, each knowing they had other places to be, neither really wanting to leave. The blond had more studying to do, and Axel … he had that stack of inventory papers sitting on the corner of the desk in his apartment, just _waiting_ for him. He'd played long enough for one evening. There would be others, wouldn't there?

He watched him walk away as he locked the door behind him, jacket pulled tighter as the wind began to blow. Turning in the opposite direction, he started towards home for the second night in a row with a smile tugging at his mouth.

_There will be.

* * *

_

Okay, I lied. I have one more thing to say. I miss my cloves. I miss them so much. D8


	6. One week

Holy crap, I wasn't expecting to finish this tonight. But I did! I'm quite proud of myself.

And I get to leave for the hospital in an hour. Gotta get ready to have my eye cut open! Huzzah!

The only thing I have to say about this one is .. just wait for chapter seven. I guarantee it's going to be a good one, even if no one thinks this one is. Trust me. Also, I just finished this five minutes ago, and I haven't slept since about nine pm last night, so if there are any typos, I'll come back and fix them later. That being said, enjoy!

Sidenote: I love South Park. And Reno makes me giggle.

* * *

It was a week before I saw him again. I don't know why it surprised me so much, when I'd only gone by the bar once since then, but … I figured maybe he'd come by the shop, or something.

I'm not obsessed, all right? I'm really not. Just mildly interested. Right.

It was mid-morning, somewhere between ten and eleven and I was in the back room counting boxes of Cuban cigars. I hated the damn things, hated the way they stunk up the tiny space I was currently confined to. It was disgusting, and I tried to hurry myself along so I could do something more pleasant … like sample the new case of Blacks that had come in yesterday. Nothing better in the world than a fresh clove. Except maybe really good sex, and I haven't had any of that in a while so I have to make due with what I'm given.

"Hey, Ax!" My brother poked his head into the small room, grinning at me like the idiot he was. "There's a really cute blond out here, and for some reason … he's askin' for you." I rested my clipboard on my knees, fighting the smile that pulled at my mouth.

"Well? You gonna get up, or do I get to play with him?"

I shook my head, pulling myself up from the floor and idly dusting my pants off. "You get to pull all the stale stuff off the shelves, Reno. You were supposed to do that last week."

He groaned audibly, slumping against the doorframe. "C'mon, yo … that shit is _boring_." I merely shook my head, poking his shoulder with my pen as I passed him. "It's either that, or go clean out the dumpster out back. Your choice." I heard him grumble under his breath behind me, and fought back another sardonic grin.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't. If it weren't for me, your ass would be unemployed."

I continued to ignore his mumbled pleasantries as I glimpsed the back of Roxas' head, hung low as he leaned against the counter. I wasted no time in sneaking up behind him, pressing my lips to the shell of his ear as I spoke: "It's about damn time you came to see me."

He jumped nearly a foot in the air, yelping in surprise as he whirled around to face me. The laughter bubbled in the back of my throat and I tried to fight it, I _really_ did – but it was stronger than me, and I had to cover my mouth in a half-assed attempt to soften it the slightest bit. He glared, the blue of his eyes almost electric before he relaxed again, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Don't do that."

"That's the kind of greeting I get after not seeing you for a week?" I gave him my best pout, bottom lip sticking out in the most juvenile way. "I'm hurt."

"No, you aren't. So don't even try." He snorted, propping a hip against the counter again as he studied me. He gave me a good once-over before he spoke again, raking his fingers back through his wild hair and averting his gaze just slightly. Was he … was he being _shy?_ Oh, that was too cute.

"I actually came by to pay you for those cloves you gave me last week … I didn't feel right just taking them."

I eyed him incredulously, waving a dismissive hand as I bent down behind the counter and retrieved the half-empty pack I'd hidden from Reno earlier, knowing full well that if he knew I had any, he'd be up my ass to bum one. Or four. Sticking one in the corner of my mouth, I held them out to the boy in front of me, silently offering. He shrugged, looking slightly guilty as he accepted. I took my time striking a match, having for some inane reason forgotten my Zippo back at the apartment and took a deep, satisfying drag as the end lit up like a firecracker. "I didn't give them to you expecting something back, Rox. I was just being nice." I watched as he pulled a blue Bic from his pocket, flicking a tiny flame to life and inhaling as the smoke entered his mouth. His eyes fluttered closed momentarily as he shoved the lighter back into his pocket, sliding open only when he parted his lips to exhale.

I found myself having to swallow in an attempt to regain a bit of moisture in my suddenly dry mouth, chewing absently on a corner of my lip as his gaze settled on me again. "That may be, but …" He shrugged, the movement so slight it almost didn't count. "I was brought up not to accept handouts from anyone, regardless of their intentions."

_Who the hell talks like that? It's like … he was raised by the Amish or something … _

I stared at him for a minute, trying not to laugh again and then have to explain why … knowing him, he'd be insulted, and I'd be set back a couple of steps. I thought I'd been doing pretty well for myself, all things considered. Except for the past week, that is. I don't know _what_ happened there. There has to be something to it … I just need to figure it out.

"It wasn't a handout. Like I said, I was being nice. You'd better take that at face value and just … accept it. I don't normally just _give_ my Blacks away. They're expensive."

"He's not kidding, yo. He won't even give _me_ any, and I'm family."

I turned around, wondering how long he'd been standing there, listening. I should have known he was going to be obnoxious when I told him to pull all the stale merchandise … it was an easy job, which should have made him a little more eager to do it, but … my brother was notoriously lazy. If it were his choice, he'd sit on his ass in front of the TV all day, either watching Cartoon Network or playing video games. I was actually pretty surprised with myself for having not fired him yet. It … would cause more trouble than it was worth, and when he actually _worked_ he did a pretty good job. It was just a disadvantage for me that that wasn't very often.

Reno smirked, coming around to the front of the counter and standing a bit too close to Roxas for my comfort. I could tell he was up to something, seeing as he almost always _was_ … but, really, did it have to be centered around my toy?

_Not a toy, yet. More of … what was he to me, anyway? _

_The unattainable. That fit pretty well, actually. _

I watched as he extended his hand, giving his trademark "hey, I'm sexy" grin. "I'm Reno. The _more attractive_ older brother."

Roxas just stood there, staring at his outstretched hand as though it were something to be dissected. He then looked up, his own sly grin curving his mouth. "More attractive, huh? Did Mommy tell you that?"

I nearly fell over. The laughter hit me hard this time, altogether unexpected because I really _wasn't_ expecting him to say anything like that. I doubled over, hugging my midsection in an attempt to calm myself but it was no good. I had tears in my eyes when I finally straightened, and Reno was standing there with such an apparent mask of shock plastered across his face that I almost lost it again. "He's got you there, man. We all know I'm the pretty one."

Roxas turned those blue eyes on me, and his brows crept upward ever-so-slightly. "Your whole family's just _full_ of unwarranted arrogance, isn't it?" I bit my lip, unable to come back quickly enough with a retort. Reno snickered and I flipped him off … just like every other day around here.

I finished my cigarette and flicked the butt into the nearby ashtray, leaning over the counter and resting my chin in my hands as I stared up at the blond. "So, did you just come here to try to give me money, or was there another reason you finally decided to grace me with your presence?"

He looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight back and forth from one foot to the other; that unbearably cute shyness had returned, and I couldn't get enough of it. "Actually ..." He paused, brows knitting together as though in concentration, before he looked back up at me. "I was going to see if you wanted to have lunch with me."

My eyes widened. I most definitely had not been expecting _that_. To camouflage having been caught off guard, I decided to do what I do best – be as sarcastic as I possibly could.

"Are you asking me on a _date,_ Rox?"

He flushed a deep pink, starting from his ears and extending all the way down his neck. "No, you asshat. My afternoon class was canceled and I thought that if you weren't busy ..." He shrugged again, crushing his cigarette in the ashtray and turning toward the door. "But if you're going to be like that, nevermind."

_Great, Axel, your fucking mouth just screwed you over. Congratulations! _

I caught him just as he reached for the door handle and spun him back around, offering my best apologetic smile. "Wait, I'm sorry … really. Um … if you want me to come with you, I could." I motioned back to Reno, who had found my previously hidden cloves and was helping himself. _Dammit!_ "He'll be fine here by himself for a little while, I'm sure."

"Well thanks for the vote of confidence, asshole." He glared at me as a perfectly round smoke ring escaped his mouth, and I flipped him off again. "Don't smoke all my cloves, a'right? And, seriously, pull the stale shit. Because if people start bringing stuff back, I'm taking it out of your paycheck."

I didn't give him a chance to complain as I stepped out the door, pulling the blond behind me. It was nice out, for once, not too cold; which I was grateful for, since I'd left my jacket inside. I wasn't going to take any chances by going back in to get it – if I got cold, I'd deal with it. I am a man, after all. I grinned down at my companion, slinging an arm loosely around his shoulders. "So, where're we goin'?"

He pushed my arm away, scowling. "Quit. I was thinking about this place down the street from the bar, actually. They make really good subs." I fished around in my brain for a minute, trying to remember if I knew the place he was talking about. Wasn't it called Mama's? "Italian place, right?" He nodded, and I shrugged. "Sounds good to me … I could go for a footlong." I snorted at my terrible joke, earning a wide-eyed stare from Roxas as we started walking.

It was quiet, just as it had been that night, and it was still pleasant. I _really_ like feeling that I don't have to fill every little bit of silence with needless conversation. Unlike Reno, I actually kind of like silence – he, on the other hand, probably couldn't shut up if his life depended on it. I have no fucking clue where it comes from, either. Neither of our parents were particularly talkative, especially when it came to us. Father was a workaholic, spending more time away from home than anyone felt was particularly necessary; mother was a housewife, working endlessly to create the perfect home life for her husband and us kids. Too bad he didn't notice how much trouble she went to. But that isn't really important, is it? Nah, I didn't think so.

After a few minutes alone with my thoughts, I got an idea. It seemed kind of like a long shot, but it was worth a try. I mean, you never know what's going to happen if you don't try, right?

"Hey, Rox … you ever go to clubs or anything?"

He looked at me rather strangely, cocking his head to the side. "No, not really … I went to one once when I first turned twenty-one, with my roommate's boyfriend because his band was playing. It isn't really my thing. Why?" I grinned, slinging my arm around his shoulders again. He didn't push me away right off the bat, and I saw that as a good thing. "Well, I was thinkin' … I go to this one place often enough, the music is good, the people pretty much keep to themselves unless you know them …" I paused, chancing a glance down at him, trying to gauge his reaction. "Wanna go sometime?"

His brows were knit tightly together, as though he was trying to analyze the question. It was a bit much, if you ask me, but I'm starting to realize that nothing is really that simple with him. It's kind of invigorating. He looked up at me, a slightly curious expression etched across his face. "What's the music like?"

"Uh … bit of techno … actually, a lot of techno. Not too bad, though. It gets your blood pumpin' pretty well."

He was quiet for a little longer, and I could almost _see_ the gears turning in his head. He really hadn't been kidding when he said he tried to understand everything, had he? I'll admit, I was a little skeptical at first. But apparently he took this whole Psychology thing pretty seriously. Does that mean you have to pick apart every little piece of information given to you?

It seemed that way.

Finally, he sighed. _That can't be good._ "Yeah, I think I'll go."

_Well, smack my ass and call me a bitch. That was easier than I thought it'd be._

I beamed down at him, unable to keep my smile from spreading across the entire bottom half of my face. "Sweet. You wanna go tonight?"

More thought. "I don't have class until noon, so … yeah, I don't see why not." He looked at his right shoulder, frowning, as though just noticing my arm for the first time. Shoving me off him again, he folded his arms over his chest. "Should I wear anything special?"

"Oh, Rox, you can wear whatever you want … but I wouldn't mind seeing you in a miniskirt."

A swift punch landed on my upper arm, a bit stronger than I would have thought. "A'right, a'right, I'm kidding. Jesus." He grinned to himself as he pulled open the door to Mama's and I followed shortly behind, watching him fondly. I _really_ hadn't thought it would be that easy to get him to agree to go out with me. Maybe I was over-thinking the situation a bit?

He turned around, presumably wondering why I hadn't followed him directly to the area squared off for placing orders. As I came up behind him and told the woman what I wanted, I couldn't help but wonder exactly what was going to happen when I took him to the club. It … really was something else.

I was sure he could handle it. And if anything, it'd give him a hell of a lot to analyze.


	7. Closing in

HOLY JESUS CHRIST ON A CRACKER THIS BITCH IS LONG. Longest chapter thus far. But I've come to terms with Roxas' wordiness, and I deal with it. I just hope you guys can. Anyway, this was finished roughly ten minutes ago, if that. I'm pretty sure there aren't any typos, but if there are, point them out and I'll eventually come back to fix them. I'm lazy.

I must thank **theisraelproject107 **profusely for her help with a particular sentence that was giving me entirely too much trouble -- I LOVE YOU LAUREN! YOU'RE A FREAKING LIFESAVER! (For some reason it won't let me put the periods in your username so it has to be like that .. =\) Oh, and love to **kurosora1984** for her general input, because it's very important to me what she thinks.

And because **decorinne **informed me that I must put the word **EPIC** in my author's note somewhere -- well, there it is. :D I'm told it makes _anything_ better, and I just might need that added boost. For the most part, I'm happy with the way this came out, but I think there's room for improvement .. we'll see what you guys think. I pretty much have the rest of the fic planned, so we'll see how long it takes me to get it all out. That being said, enjoy!

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* * *

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_Tell me, exactly, why you agreed to go with him tonight. _

The little voice in the back of his mind was the embodiment of irritation, grumbling uncertainties that he wasn't completely positive weren't some of his own. He stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, scowling at the black button-down he'd chosen to wear. How do people dress when they go to clubs? Should he go with something a little more … colorful?

_Okay, seriously. Stop ignoring me. _

_I'm not ignoring you. I'm conveniently not paying attention. _

_Same thing! _

Roxas sighed, tapping the side of his head impatiently. _You really need to just chill out … take a nap or something. _

_You're telling your consciousness to take a nap? _

_Just the annoying part. _

_Oh, _ouch.

He sighed again, reaching for the nearly-empty bottle of hair gel and made an attempt to make the mess on top of his head do something he wanted it to for a change. It was one thing to have an argument with one's conscious mind – he was thankful for once that that was the only thing he had to deal with, having been able to bypass Zexion and Demyx completely that afternoon. Thursdays were the musician's designated practice days, and since he claimed to need an audience for critique purposes, Zexion himself was pulled away from whatever incendiary array of assignments he had lined up for himself and forced to sit in a crowded basement for hours on end. He never complained, but no one really expected him to. Where Demyx was concerned, he never had a negative word to say.

Having dodged any questions he may have drawn about where he was going, who he was going with, and just exactly _why_ he finally decided to stop being a social wallflower all of a sudden almost wasn't worth the barrage of concentrated obnoxious his mind was streaming at him; he may have decided to go without fully thinking the situation through, but really, what could it hurt? When was the last time he'd gone out with anyone other than himself?

Oh, right. Demyx's birthday a couple of months ago – he'd gone merely for the purpose of not hurting the blond's feelings, and ended up watching as he danced on top of a table with a lampshade over his head. The kid really couldn't hold his liquor to save his life, but it made for amusement every once in a while. It was better than cable.

_Are you sure you're ready for this? _

He frowned at his reflection. _What's to be ready for? It's not like I'm … running for President or anything. _

_Maybe not, but you know you don't fair well with large groups of people. Isn't that why you keep going to that dive of a bar? It's never crowded. _

That was … maybe a quarter-truth? Part of him really wasn't sure why he kept going back, aside from being intrigued by a certain arrogant redhead's presence, and the fact they served top-shelf vodka for a lot cheaper than everywhere else. He had to be the only college junior he knew of besides Zexion that didn't feed into actual college life – the binge drinking, partying until all hours of the morning, and fucking anything that stood still long enough – but was it really so bad that he preferred isolation as opposed to the alternative? So he'd been told that it wasn't healthy to be alone all the time, but he couldn't think of one instance in which he felt his quality of life had improved due to the presence of anyone else. Except …

_You're deviating from the initial problem, here. People. Lots of them. Breathing and sweating all over each other. _

So that was another thing. Forgetting for a moment that Axel had been the _only_ person to invade his personal space and manage to maintain the use of his limbs, a very large contributing factor to his preferring isolation was the idea that human beings in general were disgusting creatures. Sweat, saliva, any other … bodily fluids … it was positively revolting.

_So tell me again why you're forgetting your aversion to … pretty much everything? _

A short, high-pitched laugh found its way out of his mouth. _I honestly have no idea. _

_You've got to be kidding. _

It really was strange, the sudden lapse in his neuroses. Kind of like in that movie _As Good as It Gets, _where just being around Helen Hunt made Jack Nicholson's _severe_ OCD tone down the slightest bit. Or at least made him want to get better control of it. At least he wasn't _that_ bad.

He exited the bathroom, taking a few short steps down the hallway toward the kitchen. It was quiet, and he was suddenly restless. What time was it? How long did he have before he had to meet Axel at the shop? Reaching into the refrigerator for a bottle of white tea, he caught sight of the clock on the far wall – just after seven. He had about an hour before he had to leave. _What the hell am I going to do until then? I can't sit still to save my life. _

_You still have a couple of diazepam left. _

_I haven't had to take one of those in ages. _

_That's what they're there for, Roxas. When you need them. _

_Who said I needed one? _

He'd managed to keep his anxiety under control pretty well since coming to college. When he was in high school, he'd had to take two a day just to get through his classes – but he blamed that on overcrowded public schools, and the fact that just about anyone would have found that particular situation a little unsettling. It wasn't his fault.

_Go kill some monsters. That always seems to take the edge off. _

Striding over to the couch and plopping down onto the cushion, he reached for the power button on his PS2 and waited for the load screen. He'd logged about a hundred and seventy hours on his current Final Fantasy XII file, and there really wasn't much left for him to do before he was forced to finish the game; somehow, though, it never ceased to amuse to him to run around the Henne Mines killing bats. It was relaxing, in a way. Far better than feeling the need to dope himself up just for a moment's peace.

_If only I hadn't finished off those cloves last night. _

_You do realize that an addictive personality plus smoking equals trouble, don't you? _

… _I don't have an addictive personality. _

_Weren't you just saying to yourself last week how much you hated smokers? How does it come about that after succumbing to peer pressure, your whole outlook has changed? _

_That was so not peer pressure. _

_I think he's a bad influence on you. _

_You said last week that you liked him. Make up your mind. _

_Says the neurotic little boy who's having conversations with himself on why he's suddenly rethinking his entire way of life. _

"Oh, I am not," he said aloud. He paused, turning his head as though to make sure no one heard him even though the apartment was empty. Scowling at the controller sitting idly in his lap, he shoved everything into a corner of his mind and focused on the television screen.

He had bats to annihilate, after all.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

It was cooler out than he'd expected. If there was just one thing about New York that he didn't utterly despise, it was the fact that it started getting cold pretty early. Here it was, the middle of October, and he could already see the faint white puff of his breath as he came to a stop just outside Axel's shop. He took in a deep, cleansing breath and let it out slowly, as though taking a moment to appreciate the crisp serenity of the early evening air. That obnoxious little voice in the back of his mind was blessedly silent, for once, and he was rather enjoying the peace – nevermind the fact that he didn't require any further commentary on his chosen course of action. He was an adult. He could handle this.

He pulled the door open and stepped into the dimly lit shop, catching sight of nothing other than lonely boxes sitting on rather dusty shelves. No redhead.

_Now, what the hell. He said he'd be ready to go before I got here. _

"Axel?"

Stepping a bit further inward, he noticed the door behind the counter was wide open. Thinking it rather odd, he came around, intent on poking his head inside just to see if the idiot was ready, and holding out on him just for suspense purposes. "Hey, Axel! You said you'd be ready before I –"

He stopped cold upon rounding the corner. Not only was the guy not ready, he was … half-naked.

The redhead stood bare from the waist up – well, more so from the _hips_ up, due to the astonishingly low-slung jeans that seemed only to stay in place with the help of a wide leather belt – with his back to the door, so far unaware that he was no longer alone. Roxas found himself unable to tear his eyes away from that expanse of porcelain skin, marked only across the shoulder blades with wings the color of fire; a burst of orange, red and yellow traced with delicate lines of charcoal. It had the appearance not of being an addition to his body, as much as something that had always been there – a part of himself, as though he were born to fly. He'd never seen such … _art _on a human being before.

He stood there stupidly, gawking, until Axel turned around and finally took notice of him. An almost knowing smirk broke out across that pale mouth as he turned to face the blond, not bothering to make a point of hurrying to put on the shirt he held idly in one hand. "Oh, hey Rox," he offered conversationally, bending low to retrieve something from a bag on the floor – was that _cologne?_

"Sorry I'm not quite ready. I got hung up on looking over paperwork from the last inventory cycle and lost track of time. It won't take me long."

Roxas nodded, taking note of the way his stomach muscles stretched as he straightened and spritzed himself a couple of times with whatever was in the bottle. "Yeah, no, it's no problem …" He made the mistake of breathing in deeply through his nose and nearly fell over; _fucking christ, is it possible for someone to smell that good? _

"Rox, you with me?"

"I'm sorry?" Looking up, his gaze met that of the bare-chested redhead now standing no more than two feet away from him; he shook his head, opting to breathe through his mouth until he was either outside or in a better ventilated area. Axel grinned, chuckling softly to himself as he stepped back and placed the bottle of cologne back in his bag. "You kinda … zoned out there for a minute. I was starting to think you were having a seizure."

Roxas' brow furrowed as he stared off into a far corner of the room – which was a feat in itself, seeing as it wasn't a very large room to begin with. "How many people do you know have seizures that consist of just staring off into space?" The other shrugged lazily, finally moving to tug his shirt over his head. "I worked with a guy once whose brother had seizures like that … he'd just be talking one minute, black out, then act like nothing had ever happened. Kinda creepy if you ask me."

"... Huh."

It was distracting, really, how the fabric of the wife beater clung to his frame like a second skin. The black contrasted greatly with his complexion, making him look even more pale than he actually was; it made his eyes stand out a little more, though, and that was … also very distracting.

_Damn. Damn damn damn. I really should have thought this through a little more. _

_Didn't I tell you? _

… _I thought you were taking a nap. _

_Nope. Just silently observing. You're going to make an ass of yourself. _

_How do you figure? _

_Well, let's see … can you stop staring at him long enough to remember to swallow? You're about to start drooling. _

_Ever the embellisher … _

_My ass. Wipe your mouth. _

"Isn't it a little … cold to be wearing a wife beater?" Roxas looked down at his own choice of wardrobe – a faded pair of jeans, the black button-down he'd agonized over before finally deciding that he could think of nothing better, and an old black and white checkered hoodie that had seen better days. Demyx had been after him to throw it out the moment he pulled it from the closet a few weeks ago. He didn't really see a point to getting rid of it – it fit well enough, it kept him warm, and dammit, it was comfortable. There was no reason to be wasteful, and to be quite honest … he didn't want to have to break in a new jacket. It had taken him months to get this particular garment to a state of his liking, and he was in no mood to repeat that process.

_Just because he has no respect for stability … _

_This is what we would say if we were talking about … an apartment or something … not a goddamned jacket, Roxas. _

_Pipe down. _

"It gets pretty warm inside Backstreet. I'm hot-natured anyway, so … I'll be a'right." The redhead shrugged into his own jacket, patting the pockets to make sure he'd remembered to supply himself with a fresh pack of cloves. Reaching behind him, he grabbed an unopened box from the case and tossed it at Roxas. "Just in case." He smirked.

"Just in case what?" He made a face, but shoved them into a pocket anyway as he was ushered out of the tiny room. Axel turned to pull the door shut as they ventured out into the main area of the shop, pausing briefly behind the counter to retrieve his Zippo. "Just in case you're out, and I don't want you smoking all of mine."

"About that, you never did let me – "

"Save it." The other waved a hand dismissively, nudging him out the door and onto the sidewalk. "I'll let you pay me back eventually … buy me a drink or somethin' while we're out tonight and I'll call it even. How's that?" He grinned as he pushed the door shut and turned the lock, and Roxas couldn't help thinking there was some sort of underlying agenda to that offering. He scrutinized, debated.

_Just buy the man a drink, will you? It's a little late to be over-analyzing things now. _

_Stop talking. Just … stop. _

"Fine, but it had better not be a twenty-dollar shot of Grey Goose."

"Damn, you saw right through that, didn't you? Guess I'll just have to find another way to make you spend money on me." For the third time that day, he slung an arm around the blond's shoulders – and keeping with the habit, it was promptly shoved right back off. Roxas just grinned and shook his head.

"Good luck with that."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_It's so. Loud. _

He was leaning against a wall in a far corner, a bottle of Blue Moon gripped loosely in one hand as he watched the swarm of people; bodies grinding, sweat-slick skin glistening beneath the flashing lights. It was hypnotic, in a way, as he let his eyes follow the intricate patterns made in midair by spinning glowsticks. Almost enough to make up for the fact that he was positive his ears were going to start bleeding soon – almost, but not quite.

Axel was somewhere within the crowd, having disappeared moments earlier to get himself another drink after drilling the blond about why he wasn't separating himself from the wall. He'd tried explaining that he wanted to observe this whole club scene before immersing himself in it; he'd tried to form a solid enough story that he'd be left alone at _least_ for a little while, but the redhead wasn't buying. He was a bit more perceptive than he was being given credit for, and Roxas found that mildly disturbing.

_He isn't _dumb,_ Roxas. _The little voice sounded almost surprised at that simple assertion, as though he was expected to have known that he wasn't being fair. _You really need to stop thinking you're smarter than everyone else. _

_But … I _am.

_And that goddamn attitude. You need to work on your people skills if you expect him to stick around. _

_I thought you didn't want him to? You said he was a bad influence. _

_We're not talking about me, here. But in my defense, I'm fickle. _

_That's not a very good argument. _

_I didn't say it was. _

"You look like you're either … pissed off at the world, or performing an internal monologue." He looked up as Axel appeared in front of him, holding a small glass bottle loosely in his left hand. The grin curving his mouth was lopsided and … strangely appealing.

"If I know you as well as I think I do, it's the latter."

The blond scowled into his beer. "What makes you think you know me?"

"Well …" The other took a place against the wall on his right side, pausing to sip from his drink. "The fact alone that you seem to read so much into this psychobabble you're learning in school leaves me open to that particular assumption." He sipped the drink again, gazing down with green eyes that, despite the poor lighting, glittered mischievously. "And honestly, you strike me as the kind of person that has conversations with himself."

_He's got you there. _

_You're fueling the fire. Stop it. _

_Fine, fine. _

Roxas narrowed his eyes as he met the redhead's smirk, cocking his head to the side. "What gave you that impression?"

"Why don't you stop concerning yourself with where I get my assumptions and come dance with me?"

The question caught him off guard, more than he would care to admit – he averted his gaze, bringing the bottle to his lips and drinking deeply to keep from having to answer right away. "I don't think so."

Axel's grin spread even wider and he chewed a corner of his bottom lip, reaching for the other's beer and setting it on a nearby table with his own. He leaned in close, and the whisper of breath over the side of his throat made the blond shiver.

"I'm not giving you a choice."

"Axel, no –"

He was being dragged across the floor, closer and closer to the mob of people swaying to the beat of a thundering melody blasting through the speakers – he felt his chest tighten as they surrounded him, the breath catching in the back of his throat at the touch of the redhead's fingertips against the inside of his wrist.

_Just breathe. _

"Come here." He was tugged back against the other's chest, cheeks flushing as hands rested lightly on his hips. Axel bent low, pressing warm lips to the shell of his ear. "Relax, Roxas. Move with me. I've got you."

Back and forth, his hips melded with those of the other as he began to move; he let his head fall back as his eyes fluttered closed and he allowed the vibration of the music to guide him. A hand crept from his hip and pressed flat against his belly, bringing their bodies even closer together as the blond reached back to comb his fingers through strands of fiery hair. He breathed a small sigh, lost immediately within the din as that same pair of lips brushed the surface of his throat – so softly, it was almost an afterthought.

_I'll make you hot, make you rock _

_I'll leave the world in shock _

_I'm your tease, I'm your fuel – _

He froze as it hit him, the overwhelming feeling of the room closing in around him; suddenly the music was too loud, the body behind him too close. Shoving away from the redhead, he fought to breathe as the ringing in his ears intensified – _Out. Out. Get out! _

A welcome burst of cold air met him head-on as he pushed open the door leading to the parking lot, and he all but collapsed against the outside wall – bracing his head between shaking hands, he allowed himself to sink to the ground as he attempted to recollect his composure.

_I told you you weren't ready for this. I _fucking_ told you. _

_Christ, for once_, _just _once, _don't say anything! Just be quiet. Please. _

_Not until you realize what a fucking huge mistake you just made – _

"Rox?"

He didn't look up. Couldn't bring himself to. It had been so long since he'd that bad of an attack, and he wasn't so much embarrassed as disgusted with his failure to control it. He should have known …

"Roxas. What happened?"

Axel knelt beside him and he tensed without realizing it, pressing himself back against the wall. He sighed, forced his trembling hands still. "I, uh … don't do too well with crowds." Biting the edge of his lip, he let his hands fall into his lap and chanced a glance at the other. "I'm sorry."

"What the hell are you sorry for? Why didn't you tell me?" Brows furrowed over worried green eyes, and the redhead reached out cautiously to brush a stray hair from his forehead. The caress lingered, only the very tips of his fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "I never would have brought you to a place like this if I'd known you didn't like being around people."

"It isn't that, it's …" The blond paused, frustrated. "I'm fine with people in general, I just … I don't let people I don't know touch me." He fell silent, noting the absence of the other's touch against his cheek as he withdrew; a pale mouth turned just slightly downward as he brought his hand back to his side, and he nodded.

"I see."

"You're different though." Roxas rested his head against the wall at his back, absently chewing a thumbnail in lieu of his lip. "It's like … I don't fucking understand it, but you're the only person I've ever let get this close to me. I don't …" He sighed, at a loss for any sort of proper explanation he may have been hoping to give.

"I don't mind you touching me."

It was quiet again. Quiet enough that he was almost afraid he'd finally managed to make himself out to be the crazy Psych student Axel assumed he was – it was only a matter of time, right? Before his sanity caved, and he welcomed the safety of padded walls?

_You're being melodramatic, Roxas. Even I know that. _

A tiny flash of movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention and he turned to see the other smiling, almost secretively. A slight upward curve of his mouth, and it was his only warning.

"Would you mind if I did this, then?"

Lips were still warm, moist as they brushed against his in the softest of kisses – he could taste the faint bitterness of the alcohol, the sweetness of cloves. It was slow, deliberate, almost shy as Axel pressed closer and cupped his face between even warmer hands. He gave a tiny sigh, and the other flicked his tongue teasingly before receding.

"I wouldn't mind at all …" He kissed him again, a bit harder, more desperate as he brought his arms around the redhead's neck and pulled him closer. His tongue mimicked the other's playful teasing, teeth nipping; his breath caught in the back of his throat as he felt the ball of a tongue ring against his bottom lip and he withdrew, shivering.

_Jesus … he tastes good. _

Something in the back of his mind clicked into place as he took in the other's lopsided grin, a flutter in his chest as he stole one more brief kiss – something he was rapidly becoming addicted to.

_I could get used to this. _


	8. Interlude

I've decided I don't like page breaks anymore, so .. that's why this looks different.

I don't have much to say. This isn't a real chapter -- just a .. teaser, of sorts, maybe? I call it an interlude. I was going to have it as the beginning of chapter eight, but it ended up being its own thing, and when it comes to this goddamned story, I let it do what it wants. I just don't want the muses to run away, like they did at first. I want to keep them.

-o-o-o-

Because the Night

-o-o-o-

"_A-ahh, god!" _

_His voice echoed in an empty room, reaching the ears of the redhead between his thighs and making him shiver deliciously. The other's tongue flicked teasingly over the head of his length, curled as he was taken into that unbelievably hot mouth – the blond writhed, reaching with trembling hands to tangle his fingers in the damp strands of hair at the base of his neck as his hips bucked. Another strangled moan slipped through tightly clenched teeth, breath hitching as he hissed. _

"_You're not going to stop, are you?" _

_The other lifted his gaze, green eyes sparkling as he tugged too-tight jeans from slender hips, a twisted grin painting his mouth. He laughed softly, as though only to himself, spreading pale thighs as he rose over the petite body beneath him; meeting the slightest resistance, he paused to press a soft kiss to the bend of a knee, smoothing a hand over heated skin. "Not when you make sounds like that when I touch you, Roxas …" _

_A soft whimper in the back of a dry throat as he lowered himself again, lips grazing his cock, fingers probing. _

"_A-Axel …"_

-o-o-o-

"W-what? Jesus _christ –_"

I woke with a start, damn near throwing myself out of the bed and onto the floor – my hands were shaking, hell, my whole _body_ was shaking like I'd been trapped in a sub-zero temperature freezer for half an hour. I took a deep breath and raked a hand back through my hair, dropped it into my lap with a thud only to notice that a certain part of my anatomy had been … awake far longer than I had.

_What. The fucking. Hell. _

I was harder than I thought I ever had been. And having just woken up from a … dream … _a nightmare? _I can't say that I'm accustomed to this sort of thing. It just … _doesn't _happen to me. I don't … I don't even _do_ that. Masturbate. God, who the hell came up with that word, anyway?

Reaching for my pillow, which had somehow found its way to the floor, I dragged it back onto the mattress and punched it a few times for good measure before burying my head beneath it. I closed my eyes, tried to sleep. _Sleep. Sleepsleepsleep. Sleeeeeep._

_Fuck, this isn't working. _

I shifted over onto my stomach, folding my hands beneath my chin and staring at the blank expanse of my headboard. The action put an added bit of pressure to my nether region and I groaned, unconsciously grinding my hips against the mattress. It was kind of sweet, the torture, the tiny tendrils of heat pooling in the pit of my stomach as I rocked my hips again.

_You may as well not even bother trying to sleep as long as you keep this up, Roxas … you know you can't just … _stop_ and recede back into unconsciousness. _

I … wasn't so sure about that, but … it was becoming increasingly difficult to focus on anything other than the throbbing ache in my cock.

_Why _are _you hard, anyway? _

Christ, that _dream._ I couldn't remember the whole thing – I'd never been particularly fantastic at remembering things I dreamt about after I'd woken up, but before now that had been a moot point. It hadn't mattered. I could, however, vividly recall the _heat_, the overwhelming quality of it as that mouth covered me. _His_ mouth. _Axel's_.

The feel of his hands, warmer than they had any right to be, ghosting over my skin … the weight of his body pressing me down, the taste of his tongue –

_How long has it been since I kissed him? Days? Hell, too _long_. _

I flipped over onto my back, sighing audibly as the fabric of my boxers shifted. Forgetting for the shortest moment that I had never even _attempted _what I was thinking about, my hand found my cock and squeezed, and a moan slipped past my lips before I had the thought to close my mouth. Oh, this was _bad_.

My hips jerked upward as I recalled the way he'd looked at me in the dream, the sheer lust in his eyes as he took me into his mouth – the artful curl of his tongue, the light scraping of his teeth – I bit my lip as I began stroking, the light film of sweat formed on my palm serving well enough as lubrication. It was almost as if, even through my own means, I could _feel_ him. _Taste_ him.

_When did you become such a whore for him, hm? _

_I'm … I'm _not _… _

My mouth fell open as another broken moan slipped past, my strokes becoming harder, rougher. I was panting, breath ragged, as I felt this unfamiliar pressure building just beneath my navel. _Is this … ?_

_You want him to fuck you, don't you? _

"I …" I snapped my mouth shut, remembering that I wasn't alone in the apartment – If Zexion heard me, or god forbid, _Demyx_ – I would never be able to live it down.

The pace quickened again and I licked my lips, all but tasting him on them as my back arched.

_You _want _him. His mouth, his hands, his cock – don't you? _

_I … want … _

Don't you?

My eyes squeezed tightly shut, his name tainting my tongue as I came – hard, pulsing, quivering beneath the sudden thickness of the air in my room, my voice betraying me. Motion ceased and I fought to breathe, to regain some sort of composure.

_I … don't … know what I want. Do I? _

I rolled over, reaching blindly for the towel I knew I'd left the night before; I cleaned the mess from my hand, my stomach, dropping the cloth back to the floor and promptly forgetting it. My mind was hazy – nevermind that I had just gotten off for the first time in my life, that I had even gotten hard from a _dream_ involving another person. It was the person I was thinking of. I _still_ wasn't entirely certain what it was about him that … _attracted _me so easily. What calmed me, just enough to allow him to get as close as he wanted without me freaking out completely.

Being with him was like a direct dose of diazepam straight to the bloodstream. Save for that goddamned panic attack at the club – and even then, he came to find me, _worried_ about me. I'm not used to that. Not used to that at _all_.

I sighed, curling up beneath the blanket, my body finally appearing to allow me to go back to sleep. I tried not to think about tomorrow, or the fact that he'd invited me to his apartment for dinner. What if he knew? What if he could read it on my face, that I touched myself to an image of him in my head, to the taste of him on my lips from days before? He'd think I was fucking off my rocker.

I'd just have to … make sure I didn't think about it. Which, I wasn't sure how simple that would be – given the fact that he put himself as close to me as he possibly could, always found some way to touch me ever since I'd told him that he was the _only_ person to have gotten that close to me. Ever. I sighed, wrapping my arms around my shoulders. I could _do _this. Couldn't I?

-o-o-o-

_Desire is hunger, is the fire I breathe. _

-o-o-o-

Sleep was a luxury I was persistently denied.

It wasn't happening. Not tonight.


	9. Within the borderline

Hm .. this having been the second longest chapter thus far, I've realized something -- Roxas talks entirely too fucking much. It's time for Axel to talk. And .. eheh, he's _going_ to, in the next two. Oh, hell, is he ever. -snort-

I don't think I have much to say about this? Except it didn't give me anywhere near as much trouble as the one before it, structure-wise -- I don't know _why_, but it's almost easier writing Roxas in first-person. I guess because he's coming off as so goddamned neurotic, and I'm able to be more expressive with him that way? -shrugs-

I must dedicate this one to my baby, my Roxas -- **michele-bell** -- because I had absolutely no idea where I wanted this to go before she suggested RPing it to give me some ideas .. and a large chunk of this was taken from that. Thank you so much for helping me. You're always there when I need you. -3-

.. -finally stops talking-

-o-o-o-

_This is a very, very bad idea. Bad, bad, _bad.

I stepped out of the cab warily, staring up at the apartment building that loomed ominously in front of me.

_If you turn around now, you can still catch the cab before it gets too far away – _

_Bzzzzt! _

_**Why the hell is your finger already on the buzzer?! **_

Staring down at my hand as though it were some alien object somehow attached to the rest of my body, I blinked several times, trying to focus. _I don't … know. How the hell did that even happen? _

"Yeah?" A disembodied voice crackled through the speaker next to the button, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I cleared my throat, shuffling a little closer to the box. "Hey, Axel … it's me."

"Hm." The voice paused. "I'm sorry, I don't think I know a 'me.' Could you be more specific?"

I groaned inwardly. So, it was starting already, huh? _Please._

"It's Roxas, you twit."

Broken laughter filtered through that loathsome box, and I wanted to punch it. "Just kidding, Rox. I knew it was you. I left the door unlocked, so just come on in, okay?" Another sharp buzz and the door to the building swung open. I stared at it, still briefly considering retreat.

"Uh, all right. I'll be up in a sec."

"I'll be waiting."

"I'm … sure you will," I mumbled as the static abruptly died away, grabbing the door and pulling it shut behind me as I entered the rather dark entrance hall. It wasn't … _creepy, _per se, but it gave off this vibe that said I wouldn't want to be stuck down here for an extended period of time. Digging into my pants pocket, I extracted the crumpled piece of paper I'd scribbled the directions to his apartment on and studied it. Did that say … 8-A?

Sometimes I couldn't even read my own handwriting. Sad, isn't it? You'd think by now I'd have learned to take my time writing important stuff by hand, but … I always seemed to forget until it was time to decipher my poor excuse for chicken scratch.

It … _looked _like an 8. There aren't any other numbers that look like that … except for 9. Sort of. My nose was probably less than an inch away from the paper once I finally decided that _yes,_ it _was _an 8, and made my way over to the elevator. I made a silent vow promising myself that the next time I had to scribble something down, goddammit I would make it legible – knowing full well that I was going to forget, but congratulating myself for making the effort. How was I ever going to accomplish things if I didn't let myself know that the simple act of trying was appreciated?

I know you're making that face. That "he's fucking insane" face. Aren't you? Stop it. I'm _not_. I keep telling you that, but you don't believe me …

_Probably because you keep narrating everything you do like you're writing a fucking book, Roxas. _

_Let's not forget the fact that I also indulge the intangible voice in the back of my head that insists on being unbearably annoying … not to mention intrusive. _

_Aw, you can't hurt my feelings, Rox – I don't have any! Try again. _

_I'd really rather not … _

The hall was quiet as the elevator door slid open and I stepped out almost cautiously, reading the letters on the nearby doors and determining which way I needed to go. Proceeding toward the end of the dimly lit corridor, I could hear the muted thumping of a mellow bass line as I neared the door I was looking for. I stopped just outside, listening.

_Blend and balance pain and comfort … deep within you, till you will not have me any other way … _

_He listens to Tool? Well, there's a defining quality if I ever saw one. _

What? I never said I didn't listen to music. Or that most of it tended to blow … but Maynard, I could happily tolerate. There was something about the quality of his voice that made it almost sexual … and in my opinion, it was quite unique. It struck a cord within me that not much else was able to touch. Almost … almost like being with Axel.

_Excuse me … but how long are you planning to stand out here? _

_Shut up. I'll take my time if I want to. _

_A little touchy, are we? _

… _No. _

_Not a very good liar, either. _

I shook my head and reached for the doorknob, turning it and pushing the door open just a little – the music spilled out into the hallway and I just stood there for a moment, once more lost within the hypnotizing call of another man's voice.

_How can it mean anything to me … when I really don't feel anything at all? _

_I'll keep digging … till I feel something. _

"You _can _come in, you know …" My head snapped up and I found him leering at me, the end of a clove dangling from the corner of his mouth. He raised an eyebrow, cocked his head to the side. "Unless you'd prefer to stay out there? I could bring you a TV tray, or something."

Making a face, I opened the door a bit wider and stepped inside; I stood there awkwardly, suddenly at a loss for anything to say as I let it fall shut behind me. In my momentary stupor, I took the time to survey the apartment – it was clean, surprisingly enough, and pretty well furnished. The sofa was a black microsuede, very comfortable-looking with its overstuffed cushions. A moderately-sized television accompanied several different gaming consoles, along with an entire entertainment center full of games and DVDs. What was _most _surprising, however, was the fact that there were … _paintings_ on the walls. Abstract, the lot of them, but with the most intense shades – deep reds and oranges, where others boasted the darkest blues and greens. Funny, somehow he didn't strike me as a connoisseur of art, but I was quickly learning that outward appearance meant nothing when it came to him.

"You collect art, huh?" _Brilliant … redundancy is always the way to go, don't you know. _

He looked up, green eyes briefly scanning the walls. "Oh, those things? Pff, I painted those myself … they're nothing special." Crushing the butt of his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, he strode over to the refrigerator and tugged the door open. "I noticed you drank import the other night, so I went out and bought a six-pack of Blue Moon." He held a bottle out to me, grinning. "Want one?"

My jaw had somehow dropped several inches, and upon realizing it I immediately snapped my mouth shut. I took the beer he offered in a bit of a daze, unable to tear my gaze away from the canvases adorning the small space. "You … you painted these?" I wandered over to the nearest one, idly tracing the sunburst pattern with the very tips of my fingers, the coarse feel of the paint seeming almost alien to me. I turned back to him, eyes wide. "You're serious?"

Axel shook his head, shrugging lazily as he turned to stir a pot on the stove. "Yeah, I … I was an art major in college. It just never seemed to get me anywhere, so that's why I opened the shop." He fell silent, and as I made my way back to the bar that separated the living room from the kitchen, I got the distinct impression that he didn't really want to talk about it. His stance had shifted, his shoulders tensing – clearing my throat, I set my beer on the counter and opted for the next best conversational piece.

"So … what's for dinner?"

He turned back around, mischievous grin sliding back across his mouth as though it had never left, and held out a spoon. "Well, I debated for a while on what I thought you might actually eat … and then I decided, spaghetti is pretty universal, right?" Indicating the contents of the spoon, he chewed his lip a little nervously. "Taste it for me? Tell me if it needs anything?"

I pondered the sauce briefly, noting the sharp smell of cilantro, the rich tang of oregano before I timidly leaned forward and took it into my mouth. It was … bold, with a little bit of a kick – unlike anything I'd ever tasted before. Altogether, _very _good, which was yet another surprise. Who knew the man could cook?

"It's … _really _good. I can't think of anything it needs." I licked my lips absently as he returned the spoon to the pot. "Have you always known how to cook?"

"Mm, I learned more out of necessity than choice, I guess … I was alone a lot growing up. Well, Reno and I were … and since he couldn't ever be bothered to do more than boil water for boxed macaroni and cheese, I took it upon myself to learn _something._" He smirked, leaning over the counter. "Um, you made a mess."

"I … what – " My body tensed automatically as he moved closer, and I could _feel_ my face flush as his tongue darted over my bottom lip. He lingered, his mouth hovering above mine, before he receded completely.

"Do I need to get you a bib?"

"Of course not!" I drank deeply from my beer, averting my gaze at the sound of smug laughter. It was much too early to start making an ass of myself, I decided … but if I hadn't been there ten minutes and he was already finding little ways to get closer to me … I wasn't sure how long that was going to last.

_Don't think of the dream. Don't think of how he touched you in the dream. Don't think of the way his mouth felt, how hot it was – _

_That's _enough!

… _Shit. _

I watched him silently as he moved about the kitchen, idly sipping my beer. He went back to the refrigerator, pulling out a head of lettuce and various other salad-making ingredients. Setting them on the counter in front of where I sat, the smile that spread across his mouth was genuine, if not a bit secretive. _… What are you hiding? _

"Wanna help? The only thing left is the salad … think you can do it?"

My brow furrowed as I regarded the vegetation in front of me surreptitiously.

_It's not going to bite you, genius. It's just lettuce. _

… _I know that. _

_Then stop staring at it as though it's going to gnaw your fingers off if you go anywhere near it. _

"I'm up for a challenge." I got up and came around to his side of the counter, placing myself between him and the salad-to-be. I continued to stare at it, as though willing it to shred itself into chunks acceptable for consumption. "So … how does one go about this sort of thing?"

"How does … honestly, I'm starting to think you grew up with the Amish." He reached into a drawer off to the right, taking out a sizable knife and setting the sharp edge against the cutting board. His other hand settled at my left hip, and I tried not to notice. "You just … hold it with one hand, and chop with the other until it looks like it'll make good salad. It's not hard …" I took the knife from him, placing my left hand on top of the lettuce to hold it steady as I started slicing. It really _wasn't _that difficult, once you got the hang of it …

His other hand joined its twin at my hip, holding me gently as I continued. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, moist and warm – he shifted, and his lips brushed my ear.

"Hey, you're pretty good at this. Sure you've never done it before?"

"Yeah, I'm – _FUCK!_"

The knife slipped just the slightest bit and sliced into my middle finger; not enough to cause any _real _damage, but goddamn, it _hurt_. I winced and dropped the knife, and it clattered noisily on top of the counter as Axel swore colorfully and reached for my hand.

"Jesus, Roxas, you weren't supposed to cut yourself." I remained perfectly still as he inspected the cut, bringing the injured digit to his mouth and sucking lightly. "I keep those things sharp for a reason, you know."

"I didn't do it on purpose …" I shoved myself away from him and stalked to the sink, roughly turning the faucet and holding my hand beneath the steady stream of warm water. _What the fucking hell, you can't concentrate long enough to cut up some fucking lettuce? Come on, Roxas! _This wasn't like me. This wasn't like me at _all_. I didn't even notice when Axel disappeared, and then reappeared with a band-aid until he was holding it out to me, looking like someone had just kicked his puppy.

"Here. You're going to hurt yourself again." I held out my hand and allowed him to apply the bandage, flexing once it was applied, satisfied with the way it stayed in place without too much effort. Feeling my face flush an even deeper shade of pink from the extended contact, I stared at the floor – looking up only when he tugged lightly at the end of my shirt.

"Sorry," he muttered. He looked genuinely upset, and I felt bad … it wasn't his fault, was it? It … it was _mine, _for being unable to shoulder the concentration it took to maintain sharp objects when in the vicinity of such … an attractive redhead. I sighed, very nearly disgusted with myself.

"Don't be sorry. You just … distracted me." I paused, watching him take over the act of chopping the lettuce, impressed at how quickly his hands moved. Hands that … what? Caused me to lose focus on even the simplest of things? _What? _

"I'm … still not used to so much attention … just bear with me, okay?"

His smile was small, but _real_. "Sure, Rox."

-o-o-o-

Dinner passed without further incident – unless of course you count the sliding of angel hair pasta from utensils, in which case, there was plenty. The meal was undeniably good, the conversation pleasant and unstrained. I was … comfortable around another person for the first time in my life. Though the sensation itself was unfamiliar, it wasn't unwelcome. Quite the opposite, actually. It was … liberating.

I got up to help clear away the dishes until he all but shooed me away; I compromised, hopping up onto the counter next to the dishwasher and watching. I didn't want to get too far from him just yet – I _liked_ this sense of calm, no matter how fleeting it may have been. I didn't want to lose my grip on it.

It was quiet save for the subtle tinkling of flatware being place in the dishwasher, the _clink_ of the dishes themselves as they settled next to one another. Axel was moving slowly, deliberately. I wondered why until he finally looked up at me, that ever-present grin still painting his mouth. "Do you always take such interest in watching someone do the dishes, Rox?"

I frowned a little. "Er, not usually, no." I picked at a seam on my jeans, suddenly not knowing what to do with my hands. "I just … I'm getting used to this whole 'being around people' thing, and …" I shrugged, at a loss. "I haven't really found anything about you that annoys me just yet, so I don't feel the need to exclude myself from even your most mundane activities."

_Good lord, Roxas, why don't you come off a little more stalker-ish? _

… _Okay, so maybe that wasn't the best thing to say. I wasn't thinking. _

_Where it concerns him, when do you _ever?

I could feel my face redden even before I saw the look on his face, the mischievous glint in his eyes. He straightened away from the dishwasher, propping a hip against it and folding his arms over his chest. "Mundane activities, huh? That mean you'll take a shower with me sometime?"

… _Definitely not the best thing to say. Look what you did. _

I stared at him, the easy smirk that curved his mouth as my own dropped open in mild shock. I coughed into a fist, expertly averting my gaze. "I take that back … there is something obnoxious about you. Two things, actually."

"And they are?"

Completely deadpan, I shrugged again. "Your ego … immeasurably overinflated as it may be … and your libido." He snorted a laugh, slumping back over the counter. "Aw, Rox, c'mon … those are two of my best qualities, all wrapped up in a neat little package … you can't say a libido like mine is a bad thing." Shifting a little closer to me, he lowered his voice a few octaves. A hand brushed my thigh, and I swallowed hard.

"For one thing, you've yet to experience it … how can you judge what you don't know?"

I cocked my head to the side, raising an eyebrow. "Are you implying that I'm _going_ to experience it? That's very presumptuous of you, don't you think?" Unconsciously, I leaned back away from him as he moved closer, ultimately coming to stand directly in front of where I was seated. I watched as he placed a hand on either side of my legs, breath catching in the back of my throat as his face hovered above mine – I was roughly eye-level with him now, being on the counter, and somehow … being that much closer to him, close enough to smell the crisp scent of soap and cologne on his skin … it almost made me dizzy.

_Breathe. _

"Are you implying that you don't want to?"

"Axel, I don't know –" Words died in my mouth at the first touch of his lips, and I froze – Tool was still playing softly in the background, and I could just barely make out the subtle melody above the blood pounding in my ears. I reached up with trembling hands to trace the contours of his face, the sharp line of his jaw before wrapping my arms loosely around his neck; it was far too warm in here, but as my mouth fell open and his tongue slipped inside, it hardly seemed to matter.

_And I feel this coming over like a storm again … _

_I am too connected to you to slip away … fade away … _

_Days away I still feel you … touching me, changing me … _

It was as if I had suddenly lost all connection to my lower extremities – maybe not just that, but _everything_ – all I could feel was the way his lips framed mine, and the steady thumping of my heart beating against my ribs. I was surrounded by him, drowning in him … willing to give up everything just to stay in _this _moment.

_As the walls come down, and as I look in your eyes, my fear begins to fade … _

_When … how did you end up on the couch? _

… _What? _

I was sprawled beneath him, pressed down into the thick cushions beneath the weight of his body as he kissed me; I could feel his teeth on my neck, the flick of his tongue. A tiny moan slipped past my lips and I snapped my mouth shut, feeling my cheeks flush even more as he lifted his head to smirk at me. "Like that, Rox?"

"Um …" I stuttered, my brain unable to form the necessary thought patterns that lead to piecing a full sentence together. _Yes. Yes I do. I'd like it if you did it again. I'd like it if you did _more …

"Oh, fucking _hell._"

I caught sight of the clock on the wall opposite of the couch and swore colorfully, raking a hand back through my hair. Axel's brow furrowed, a corner of his mouth losing that natural smile, and I sighed. "My dorms have a curfew set during the week … the doors lock automatically after eleven pm, and no one can get in." I glanced at the clock again, just to be sure. 11:15. "I'm fucking screwed."

"Well …" I watched as the tip of his finger traced small circles over my chest through my shirt, just barely containing a delicious shiver. He raised his eyes, grin returning. "I _could_ let you crash on my couch … unless of course you _wanted_ to sleep on the sidewalk." He laughed softly, and I failed to resist the urge to kiss him again – this was swiftly becoming a habit, and a _bad_ one, at that.

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" He was ignoring me, having found that the edge of my shirt had ridden up just the smallest bit – _christ, his hands are warm. Is that even humanly possible? _

"No molesting me while I sleep. Got it?"

"I can't make any promises, Rox …" He laughed again as my mouth dropped open, kissing my chin. "You'll just have to trust me, I guess?"

I shook my head, eying him warily. "You're not making that a very easy task, I hope you know … but, I guess I can give it a shot. So long as _you_ make your own attempts at being civil." I poked his nose for emphasis and he grunted, which I took for an affirmation that he _would_ try. I couldn't help thinking, even as he pulled me in for another kiss that I was in for an interesting night – one that, hopefully, wouldn't end in my waking up with him standing over me, watching me as I slept.

Is it weird that that's the first thing I think of?

_Maybe it's even weirder that he seems like that kind of person. You'd better hope you don't wake up in a tub of ice, missing a kidney. I've seen it happen. _

_That … was a movie. A very bad one. _

_I didn't say it had happened to anyone I know. _

I focused on the taste of his lips as he kissed me, settling into an increasingly familiar rhythm as he pressed even harder against me – my hips twitched, and I groaned again.

_Please tell me this isn't a bad idea. _

_Would you listen to me if I did? _

_Mm … probably not. _

_Then it doesn't matter what I think. _


End file.
